The One Less Traveled
by marcasite
Summary: He's hesitant about letting her in, knows the whiplash of words that fall too easily from her.  Ben, Ben/Leslie


_Could not have done this without **Leslie (aka scullyseviltwin). **You are such a bad ass and I love you for it! And for getting me into new fandoms!_

* * *

><p>Why would this town be any different?<p>

They are a team, he and Chris, both with their roles to play. He's learned to let Chris do what Chris does best (placating, calming, engaging their trust) which is present a calm facade and devote himself to empty promises. When Chris disappears, (as he always does) he leaves behind a trail of dead ends and plenty of castles in the air. It's up to him to start the same old cycle of no and absolutely not.

He's quiet by nature; people tend to forget about him as he fades into the background so he hears a lot. In the hallways of city hall, he hears about the deputy director of Parks and Recreation, hears about Leslie and what she's done now, what she's working on next. They talk about her team and her seemingly endless rash of ideas (and energy). Expecting a paragon and tyrant, he's surprised when he finally meets her and observes her quietly while Chris is busy explaining why they're there.

Nothing in his set of rules has prepared him for her.

* * *

><p>He wanted this town to be different.<p>

Wanted it with a simple flash of blonde hair and a wide smile. But experience has taught him that nobody likes the auditor and killing the messenger seems applicable to him. Easier to hide behind spreadsheets and complete indifference (even if he was feeling anything but). This town is exactly the same as the last, will be exactly the same as the next.

He's prepared himself, read everything he thinks he needs to know about Pawnee and the way they spend money. But reading files and meeting people are two different things. He believes he's immune to the reactions but his breath catches when she starts yelling at him, defending her staff and calling him a jerk. He's surprised at his reaction and when she tells him that this building has feelings he has a sinking feeling that he's in over his head.

So he does what he's been doing his whole life, retreat. He knows he is not immune to the disdain and contempt on her face.

* * *

><p>Maybe this town is different.<p>

He can't remember the last time he saw a group of city employees go out together to party after the auditors arrived. And especially not when they were all on the verge of (possibly) losing their jobs. But here they all were, at a nightclub in the center of town, drinking and celebrating a birthday.

He hates social settings; where clusters are created and he always manages to find himself hovering on the edge. He hates that it makes him feel awkward, socially inept. He doesn't ask himself why he came tonight, why he accepted Ron's casual invite to join them for a drink. Glancing around, he catches sight of her sitting across from his group with a friend. He notices several drinks in front of them and decides to try again.

Tonight he could rewrite some of his own rules.

* * *

><p>There's nothing different about this town.<p>

He stands there, blinking his eyes at her. Flushing, he stumbles over his words and suddenly he hates her for this small bit of humiliation. He hates himself even more for trying.

He shouldn't be hurt, shouldn't let the words bother him but they do. They settle around him like an ice blanket and the words seep in. As she tells him to get out, that no one wants him there; he believes it as hard truth. Why had he thought that this town would be any different from the dozen others? Same cold shoulders, same death threats, same everything. He should be use to all of it by now, do his job and get out. Just like she told him to.

But he wanted it to be different this time. No, he thought _she_ would be different and the joke is on him.

* * *

><p>Wishing this town was different isn't the same thing as being different.<p>

He wants to ignore her when she comes into Chris's office, wants to pretend that she doesn't exist. But he listens intently as Chris sells her a vitamin, wanting to know what she wants. He feels his heart beat a bit faster when she asks to speak to him and he reminds himself that he is indifferent, that he is immune. The sooner he finishes these budgets, the sooner he can leave.

But then she's apologizing and he brushes her off (self-defense comes easy these days) but it's not long before he sees them spiraling into another argument; taking little pieces as souvenirs. He's cautious by nature but he cuts her off and asks her to go get a beer with him. Pure impulse on his part but catching her slightly off balance was worth the risk.

It's been a lifetime since he's taken any risks.

* * *

><p>Amazing how a town can change once you realize who the town is.<p>

Eric wasn't going to open the bar but when he saw Leslie standing in the doorway, he smiles and ushers them both in with a small joke about the time. It's quiet in the bar, no other patrons and he knows he made the right decision. And the beer tasted good despite the hour.

He's hesitant about letting her in, knows the whiplash of words that fall too easily from her. But he thinks that if she understands a little bit of where he came from, this road they had to travel together would be smoother. He surprises himself by opening himself up to her, exposing to her some of the youthful vanity and pain he hides behind. He wants her to understand why he chose the safe path, trudging along slowly and willing to bear the responsibility that condemnation brings.

He thinks of it as repentance for mistakes he made seventeen years ago but he wants her (wills her) to see through it. She can't help but make jokes at his expense as they leave but he knows that it will be a long time before he forgets how he spent the past hour.

He knows that she's starting to understand him now and though it's a small opening, it's there.

It's not the town that's different, it's because the town is lucky enough to know Leslie Knope.

.end


End file.
